


I Thought I Saw A Pussy Cat

by Proclaim_Thy_Warrior_Soul



Series: A SEAL and his cat [1]
Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: Angst, Drama, Feelings, Fluff, Friendship, Gen, a dash of hurt/comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-10
Updated: 2015-03-10
Packaged: 2018-03-17 06:54:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,218
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3519623
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Proclaim_Thy_Warrior_Soul/pseuds/Proclaim_Thy_Warrior_Soul
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve was late. </p><p>The blond detective paced the length of his hallway, brain working overtime as he considered the last time McGarrett hadn't shown up at the designated hour. </p><p>Angst and fluff and...kittens? Oh my!</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Thought I Saw A Pussy Cat

**Author's Note:**

> Spoilers for all aired episodes, but particularly the current season.

_**I Thought I Saw A Pussy Cat** _

"Yeah, okay. Thanks, Duke. You're right, I'm sure he's just forgotten. Yeah... Mahalo."

Danny ended the call with a sigh, stifling the urge to throw his phone across the room. The temporary satisfaction wasn't worth the inevitable need to replace his phone, nor the pull of stitches embedded in still-healing skin and muscle - a painful reminder that not so long ago he'd been stabbed in the gut.

Instead, reluctantly taking his therapist's advice and counting slowly to ten, the Jersey native took several deep breaths to calm his frustrations before checking his watch for the third time in as many minutes.

_Steve was late._

The blond detective paced the length of his hallway, brain working overtime as he considered the last time that McGarrett hadn't shown up at the designated hour.

Whist Danny and the rest of Five-O had quite innocently presumed that their boss was running a little behind, the reality had been that McGarrett was being shot at and run off the road. Incapacitated,  _barely conscious_ , Steve had been carted off against his will to be drugged and tortured at the hands of a relentless psychopath...for information he did not have.

Wo Fat had come so very close to killing his partner that day, and if their doped up Super SEAL hadn't killed the sonofabitch, Danny sure as hell would've done it for him; because Steve would never admit it, but he was scarred by his time in the madman's spiteful hands.

They all were.

There were still too many nights that Danny woke in a cold sweat, Steve's drugged confusion as he asked for his dead father enough to shatter his heart into a million tiny, irreplaceable pieces every time the words replayed, over and over in his head. That - and the image of his partner sprawled lifelessly on the ground, fresh bullet wound to the head - would be haunting his nightmares for many years to come.

So, no. Danny wasn't going to allow something like that to happen to Steve again.  _Not if he had any say in it._

Mind made up, Danny grabbed his keys and wallet from the kitchen table and headed for the door.  _If the mountain won't come to Mohammad..._

Danny was going to find his wayward partner and then he was going to give the SEAL a piece of his mind.

Steve McGarrett wouldn't know what hit him.

* * *

Throwing the car into park, Danny ignored the spray of gravel and dirt that accompanied the screech of protesting brakes. He'd made it to McGarrett's place in good time, channelling the reckless driving habits of a certain Navy SEAL that he typically saw fit to complain about. Loudly.  _So, sue him..._

Steve's truck sat innocently enough in front of the quiet house, and Danny allowed himself a moment to ponder the thought that maybe he was overreacting. Maybe Steve had overslept ( _yeah, right..._ ), or he'd lost track of time on one of his gruelling early morning runs ( _except it was midday and he would've been back hours ago_ ). Hell, knowing Steve as well as he did, the man had probably found some poor, helpless citizen in need of rescuing, or he'd stumbled upon some sort of illegal activity and had gone to put a spanner in the works without even considering putting in a call for backup. Trouble had a bad habit of sniffing out the Head of Five-O wherever he went.

Well, whatever'd happened, Danny was here to find out.

Checking the screen of his phone one final time and finding nothing but a picture of his beautiful Gracie smiling sweetly up at him, Danny refused to ponder any longer.

Slamming the door to the Camaro, the detective paused alongside Steve's truck to check it over, but there was nothing out of place that he could see. Satisfied nothing there was amiss, he made his way towards McGarrett's front door.

Danny's hand reached automatically for his sidearm as he spied the door swinging back and forth in the light afternoon breeze, instantly on high alert. Everyone knew Steve wasn't stupid enough to leave it unlocked, not with the number of enemies he'd made since moving to Hawaii and setting up the Five-O Task Force.

Creeping closer, ears straining for any sound of distress coming from within, Danny's breath faltered as he spied signs of fresh blood on the door handle.

_Damn it, Steve._

Torn between the urge to call for backup and the desire to check on his friend, the blond detective decided that he had no time to waste. Steve might need him, and Danny owed him that much, if not more.

Gun at the ready, Danny nudged the door open with his foot and slipped quietly inside, sharp eyes absorbing as much detail as possible. There was no obvious signs of trouble - Steve was a neat freak, after all, and nothing seemed conspicuously out of place except maybe an old Henley thrown haphazardly over the back of the couch.

Making sure to shut the door gently behind him, Danny grimaced at the discovery of more blood on the inside handle. There wasn't enough there to give him good reason to panic, but it was  _too damn much_  anyway. If Steve was injured, why hadn't the stubborn sonofabitch called anyone for help?

Returning his attention to the rest of the room, the Jersey native moved carefully towards the kitchen until a soft cry of distress from the same direction had him pick up his pace.

"Steve?"

Ignoring the way his voice cracked, mouth painfully dry, Danny took cover against the wall, straining his ears as he listened for any further sounds.

There it was again.  _What the hell_?

With a silent count to three, Danny threw himself around the corner, gun raised as he mentally prepared himself for the worst.  _Steve unconscious; Steve dying in a pool of his own blood..._  A million different possibilities ran through his head, but instead there was nothing.

Well, not nothing exactly. There was an abandoned towel on the side, but there was no Steve, that was for sure.

The strange noise sounded again, but before Danny could investigate any further, the soft creak of a floorboard from behind had him spinning to cover his back.

"Whoa! Don't shoot, it's me!"

"Danny?  _What the hell_ , man? Did you forget how to knock?"

Danny's relief at finding McGarrett in one piece, albeit armed and pointing a weapon at his head, was short-lived as his partner's words sunk in.

" _Excuse me_? Have  _I_  forgotten how to knock? How about have  _you_  forgotten how to lock a door or how to tell the time? Or even how to answer your damn phone, for that matter?" Belatedly remembering that he was waving his gun around, Danny put the safety on and returned it to his holster.

Steve's face wrinkled in confusion as he lowered his own weapon, moving it out of sight. "Come again?"

"Your door was open, idiot." Danny chuckled, suddenly overcome with relief that his fears for his partner were mostly unfounded. He couldn't even muster the energy to be pissed at him any longer. "I followed the blood trail inside."

Steve offered a sheepish grin to that one, eyes travelling to the poorly bandaged cut on his right arm that was still leaking steadily down his damp, tanned skin. "I, uh, went to get the First Aid kit from the truck but-"

His words were cut off by the return of the distressed cry from within the kitchen. Steve's face paled as he pushed past Danny, his partner already forgotten as he walked over to the kitchen counter and gently tugged at what Danny had thought to be Steve's wet towel from his swim. Lifting the soggy material revealed a ridiculously tiny ball of... _something._

"Hey, hey, it's okay... I was just checking you hadn't fallen."

Danny stared in complete confusion as all six feet, two inches of Navy SEAL cooed gently at the wriggling ball of fur now cupped ever so gently in his large hands.

"Uh, Steve?"

The Head of Five-O paused in his ridiculous whisperings to the creature in order to glare up at Danny with a frown.

"Is that... What the hell is that thing?"

"It's a cat, Danno. Or, technically, it's a kitten. Too young to be out on its own, that's for sure."

Danny let his friend's words sink in for a few seconds before he allowed himself to respond. "I can actually see that it's a cat -  _kitten_ , whatever. My point,  _babe_ , is what is it doing in your house?"

Steve cradled the bundle to his chest, one finger absentmindedly petting the tiny thing's head. The incredibly loud purring let everyone know that it was enjoying it plenty.

"I rescued it."

Danny's raised eyebrow and unamused face encouraged the SEAL to continue.

"I went for a swim, came back and heard the kitten crying nearby. He'd trapped himself in the storm drain, so I fished him out-"

"-cutting your arm in the process," Danny guessed.

Steve grinned. "Yeah, sliced it pretty good on the drain and the only First Aid kit I have with anything useful in it is the one in the truck. I went to get it and then remembered I had some bandages in the other room, but I guess I'd already left my blood everywhere..."

Danny rolled his eyes, moving closer in order to get a better look at the tiny kitten. Black and fluffy, its large green eyes watched him with obvious curiosity so he reached out to pet it gently on the head, smiling when he was rewarded with a soft meow. "So, you stood me up for a cat. What is it with you and cats, McGarrett?"

Steve snorted indelicately but didn't answer, too wrapped up in tickling the kitten's stripy belly. After a moment it looked like he'd changed his mind and was going to say something after all, but he stopped so Danny allowed him a second to sort his thoughts into some semblance of an order.

"I'm sorry for making you worry."

The admission, when it came, was unexpected. Danny tried to brush the comment off but the SEAL wouldn't allow it, placing his new tiny friend on the floor and watching as the kitten set to exploring his untied laces.

"Look, you're probably aware that I'm still a little messed up after everything with Wo Fat and... yeah. I'm not really sleeping well; or at all, if I'm honest. But I am working on it."

Danny shifted closer, not accustomed to this new version of his friend, but not willing to break the moment. Steve usually kept all this stuff to himself, much to everyone's disquietude.

Danny preferred this new side to Steve.

"I've been seeing someone," his partner continued. "A therapist, actually. I saw him this morning. That's kind of the reason I wasn't there to meet you. I got back and I just, I needed...space, so I went for a swim."

"And that's how you ended up rescuing the little furball," Danny interrupted with a grimace. The furball in question had turned his attention to the blond detective, using his sharp little claws to climb Danny's leg like a ladder. Grabbing the kitten before it could tear his pants - and his skin - to shreds, Danny held the bundle of fur up in front of his face. "You've got sharp claws, fluffy."

With a shrill meow, the kitten batted Danny's nose with its paw.

" _Ow_. And an attitude problem."

Steve laughed, rescuing his partner from another attack. Sitting the kitten on the counter, he allowed it to bump its tiny head against his own before it curled into a ball and settled down to take a nap.

"I was never in any trouble, Danny. But I want to thank you for coming to my rescue, anyway. I appreciate it."

Danny made sure Steve was looking at him when he said his next words. "That's what friends are for, right? I haven't exactly been a very good one lately, I know that, but I need you to understand me when I say that I'm here for you. Through thick or thin and no matter what crazy-assed stunts you decide to pull. We all are."

Steve offered a small nod to show he'd heard his friend's words and that he truly did appreciate them. "Thanks, man."

"You're welcome. Now, sit your ass down so I can deal with your arm, would you? You're bleeding all over the place."

Steve laughed but did as he was told, pulling out a chair and straddling it backwards so he could keep an eye on the softly snoring kitten. "Oh, hey. The kitten needs a name," he called as Danny disappeared in search of medical supplies.

-" _You're keeping it?_ "

"Of course I'm keeping it. I was thinking of calling him Jersey. Seems to me he has the right attitude for it."

"..."

"What do you think?"

Danny reappeared with a fully-stocked First Aid kit in one hand and Steve's Henley in the other. Somehow, Steve didn't think he was going to be able to wear the shirt again.

"Nuh-uh, no way. That's a ridiculous name," Danny scowled. "You should call him..."

**THE END**

**Author's Note:**

> Erm, so I watched the episode with Danny and Steve and the cat and OMG HOW ADORABLE and I fell a little in love with it and then this happened... Anyone want to name the kitten? Because I'm sure he'll be appearing again sometime soon ;)
> 
> Until next time!


End file.
